ally improved also. Still, there was none of that
splendor of equipage of which I had heard so much. The carriages were
few, and neither rich nor well-appointed. The horses were poor-looking,
and seemed all over-worked and exhausted. The same tired and worn-out
air pervaded the people too. They all looked as though fatigue and
excitement had finally conquered them, and that they were no longer
capable of endurance. At the bakers' shops that I passed, great
crowds were assembled, waiting for the distribution of bread which the
Government each morning doled out to the population. I watched these,
and saw, to my amazement, that the ration was a small piece of black
and coarse bread, weighing two ounces, and for this many were content
to wait patiently the entire day. In my curiosity to see this, I had
approached an old man of a strong, athletic appearance, who, leaning on
his staff, made no effort to pierce the crowd, but waited calmly till
his name was called aloud, and even then received his pittance as it was
passed to him from hand to hand. There was something of dignity in the
way he subdued every trace of that anxious impatience so perceptible
around him, and I drew nigh to speak to him, with a sense of respect.

"Is that meant for a day's subsistence?" asked I.

He stared at me calmly for a few seconds, but made no reply.

"I asked the question," began I, with an attempt to apologize, when he
interrupted me thus:--

"Are you one of the Troupe Doree, and ask this? Is it from you, who live
in fine houses and eat sumptuously, that comes the inquiry, how men like
me exist?"

"I am newly come to Paris; I am only a few hours here."

"See here, comrades," cried the old man, in a loud and ringing voice to
the crowd, "mark what the 'Sections' are doing: drafting the peasants
from the Provinces, dressing them in their livery, and arming them to
slaughter us. Starvation marches too slowly for the wishes of these
aristocrats!"

"Down with the 'aristos,' down with the 'Troupe!'" broke in one wild
yell from the multitude, who turned at once towards me with looks of
menace.

"Ay," continued the old man, waving his hand to maintain silence, "he
dared to taunt me with the pittance we receive, and to scoff at our
mendicancy!"

"Down with him! down with him!" cried the crowd; but, interposing his
staff like a barrier against the mob, the old fellow said,--

"Spare him, comrades; he is, as you see, only a boy; let him live